Between the here-and-now and the hereafter

Standing on the gray stone, my path stretching out behind me and space on all sides, a void of green matter a thousand feet away just beyond my toes and hips, I’m reminded of our last conversation.

You said “I loved you all those years ago. I liked him, really I did, and I know he was your best friend, but I loved you.”

“How?” I responded, “I was a such a fool then. I knew nothing of the world. I was naive. Childish. And you knew so much, had seen so much pain. How could you love me? How did I not know?”

“I liked that,” You said, “it made me feel innocent again.”

I’m broken out of my reverie by the sound of boots behind me, the gloved hand on my shoulder, the feathery touch of your breath on my neck.

“You shouldn’t be here”, I said, “I banished you for a reason. It isn’t safe for either of us.”

Softly, “I want you, dearest. I always did.”

I turn around, shrugging the rotting leather off my back.

“You’re as close as I ever came to love,” I reply, “and it almost killed me. You have to go.”

“Come with me.” Pleading. Hurt in your eyes. A hand on my hip.

“I can’t.” My voice is as steady as my hand, but I don’t try and stop the tears. The tears always come when we have this conversation.

“I could love you well.”

You’re weeping openly now, and you’re not alone.

“You could kill me, and I wouldn’t know what to do with You.”

My stomach hurts.

“Then do it.” You scream. Pain. Your fingers digging into me.

I do it. In one move I grab your emasculated ghost of an arm and throw you over the edge. I have a glimpse of your smile as you fly away, picking up speed as you go.

Slowly, much too slowly, I pluck an arrow from the quiver on my back, put it to the string. I pull. Blink. Blink. Blink. Breathe deep. Release, and release.

I sit down hard. Drop the instruments of death after where I imagine your body would be falling if this were real, but there’s no trace of you, and I know then that it’s just another nightmare, another reminder of what it can cost the heart to buy back a soul. I know that somewhere, somehow, you’re still alive, and still dead.

I hope to God I never see you again, but I still wish I could save you.

Forgive me, love. I hope when we’re dead we’ll be able to be friends again.